Sunday 29 December 2019

[Challenge of the Frog Idol] Session #10: The Haunted House Part II

Continuing on their exploration, the party discovers several hiding spots with small treasures in the "haunted" house, as well as plenty of living dangers - spiders and centipedes lurking in the fireplaces or in the dark, and a nest of stirges roosting at the attic. While the other party of adventurers has suddenly vanished, the characters find three corpses of what appears to be a separated party, who got killed three weeks prior. One thing is for certain though, no such thing as mythic treasure is to be found; in addition, no workshop or a lab the alchemist conducted his foul research has been so far revealed, which leads the characters towards the underground levels of the mansion. But before venturing in the dark, another "haunting" strikes fear into the hearts of the characters, just as they step at the staircase, but with determination, the party moves downwards. By this time, they are convinced that these "hauntings" are actually magical traps to scare off intruders, pretty much a work of some magic-user placed to deter anyone from messing with their job.

A seemingly ordinary wine cellar hides a well-placed secret door that takes the party to a different scenery: a big, long room, well-lit by lanterns and furnished with a table and stools, cooking utensils and cots for ten people. What purpose this chamber served has now been turned into barracks for a group of ne'er-do-wells, as the characters meet one of them carving a wooden boat, unaware of their intrusion. Striking swiftly, the man lies dead before even raising his head, however, a sneaky blow sends one of the retainers bleeding and frothing at the mouth; Ned, who previously assisted the party now looks keen on halting its advance, a poisoned dagger in his hand. As they battle him, the characters find out he was placed here to hinder and discourage them from coming across the smugglers' hideout, which means someone must have known they were to explore this house. And as they look for more clues in what appears to be the leader's private room, they come to the realisation that indeed, the place serves as a hideout for a lucrative smuggling and slavery operation.

Still, the party is determined to investigate further and soon enough, they happen on the undead guardians of the alchemist, just beyond the door with the chalked warning. The presence of undeath in the room makes the characters hesitant at first, but they steel themselves and the two clerics use their divine power to turn the skeletons away, while the rest of the party strike them down. With a little bit of searching, the secret door to the alchemist lab is finally revealed, hiding amongst rubble and ruined alchemical gear extraordinary treasure, as well as the skeletal remains of the alchemist, still seated in front of his beloved workshop. The characters loot everything and, as they don't seem able to proceed any deeper underground, they decide to head back to the city and inform the City Council of their findings, who eagerly asks them to expose the smuggling den. However, the party prefers to stay and recuperate in the city, thus giving the chance to the smugglers, after finding out their hideout was busted, to pack everything and leave at once.

Characters involved:
Rolf the Bold, fighter 1
Aurora, cleric 1
Yudel, dwarf 1
Lolék, thief 1

Elaine, fighter 1 (retainer) KIA
Raine the Despised, cleric 1 (retainer)

This session actually marked the end of the adventure. The players didn't fancy going back to the mansion, especially now that they returned laden with treasures, so I had to devise a plan. The Iron Overlord made a recurring appearance, so I thought of him as being the mastermind behind the smuggling operation. He would write a letter to the characters to cease their investigation and co-operate with him, with the promise of handsome rewards. For now, that was the end of a slightly modified Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh, a fun module in which your typical "haunt" trappings turn out to be a cover for criminal activity. Since my group runs a not-really-good party, they never felt the need to fight off the evil; instead, they enjoy messing around with the underworld and go after quests for riches and power.

Monday 23 December 2019

What is an adventurer?

As I was sitting in my comfy living room and reading about inns and accommodation in European Middle Ages, a certain article helped spark a thought in my mind, or rather reignite something that may have been tormenting me (not really) for quite some time now, possibly since I first experienced the might and magic of D&D. The nature of this thought may comprise a significant portion of the existence of possibly all tabletop RPGs and involves the meaning of the D&D adventurer.

Hopefully, an adventurer is not that.
What exactly is an adventurer? Various gaming sources have attempted to give an explanation or two about the band of misfits who usually (and inadvertently) end up saving the world - or condemn it, and it often comes down to this:
A person who becomes rich and renowned through mighty deeds and perilous adventures
Suffice to say, I find this description lacking. The portrayal of the adventurer as the hero who fights off evil, recovers ancient treasures and builds strongholds and fiefdoms feels a bit dry. Certainly, one can have all sorts of juicy and exciting stories unfolded, but there is one critical aspect that occasionally frustrates me in D&D: the characters are often disconnected from society, as if they do not clearly belong in the social structure the fantasy communities are part of. Don't get me wrong, characters may have backgrounds and motivations that specifically engage them in social affairs and can be quite active in the matters of their region, but these don't invalidate the fact that adventurers don't quite fit any social role in a fantasy setting. Characters were given backgrounds/themes across all editions, accompanied by special traits and/or skills (5e uses artisan, knight, noble, outlander and sailor amongst others), but there's no telling what they're supposed to do besides adventuring, a meta-linguistic term used to denote a story in D&D. On the other hand, running the daily chores of a farmer, a fisherman, or a coach-rider isn't all that exciting, is it?

The closest I can liken adventurers to are mercenaries and sellswords, though it can be argued that these people weren't exactly the adventuring type, let alone them being motivated solely by wealth. And during lean times, mercenaries would often resort to banditry and other petty crimes, very unlike the mighty deeds and perilous adventures we mentioned earlier. What's more important is that mercenaries didn't possess any social rank; while having military experience, their usefulness was only situational, compared to a knight or a city guard whose position was clearly defined within the medieval social system. One can claim that adventurers are not driven just by monetary gain, but personal goals as well. I would say a prince may be also motivated by personal goals, but that doesn't make him an adventurer. An explorer, perhaps? A dungeon delver, a spelunker etc? Good call but still, historical explorers possessed other occupations. Leif Erikson was a farmer and a warrior. Pytheas of Massalia was a merchant and a scientist. Ibn Fadlan served as a member of the Abbasid embassy. Marco Polo was also a merchant. On the other hand, adventurers can be something akin to a farmer, a smith, a warrior, a merchant and for some reason they decided to take up arms; I can agree with that. A devastating raid that burnt their whole village and forced the characters into adventuring life, that's a pretty acceptable reason. If I want, however, to use this term to refer to a whole bunch of people doing whatever they know best, and not because of some random incident, I have to construct a class for them to fit in the social hierarchy.

So the idea that stuck in my mind is this: what if the adventurer is a traveller, as expected, but one who keeps the various settlements in contact, over a world dominated by foul monsters and vicious bandits? Imagine a world where merchant capitalism has yet to replace the feudal economic system; ideally, we have a Points of Light setting, where settlements are confined between vast expanses of untamed wilderness, filled with hazards and perils to the brim. Trade within a landowner's region is particularly limited, even non-existent, and only the local ruler has means of communication through a network of spies, scouts, and the military. As in a feudal society, commoners are bound to the land they work for, so movement is not feasible. Villages and towns in a given region are isolated from each other, as there is no centralised government to provide  adequate protection and maintenance of roads. Nobody dares venture beyond the safety of their community, however efficient that is. Enter the adventurers, folk that have travelled far and wide, picking up gossip, rumours, and the occasional trinket. For commoners, adventurers are the postmen who bring news from the neighbouring settlements, such as the marriage of one's relative, the death of another's friend, the struggles or merry times of said town etc; it isn't unreasonable for a family of peasants to approach an adventurer and ask the whereabouts of a specific person in the village directly south of here, or to deliver a message to a poor man's son who got enlisted in the nearby town's militia. Monetary rewards would be typically trivial (a few silver pieces, food and shelter for the night, a cheap trinket) but their social service would be of enormous worth. For craftsmen, adventurers represent traders and merchants, able to pick their crafts and sell them to their next stop; many an adventurer on a cart full of gear has been dubbed a pedlar, for good or ill. Smart adventurers can profit from this type of commerce, even though the life of a merchant is not very appealing an affair. Still, managing and protecting trade routes between towns can result in a prosperous living for both settlements and anyone involved. For the nobility, adventurers can serve as providers of gossip, intelligence over a rival's welfare, or information of any sort. They can also tackle current issues a local ruler faces, like delving into dark dungeons, clearing an area of monsters, getting rid of brigands, defending against raiders etc. While this employment comes with its own risks, its rewards are unmatched, and nobles learn to trust and cater to folk who advance their agendas. It's no wonder most adventurers are therefore drawn around the ruling class, for their chances of gaining wealth, fame, and prestige improve proportionally.

With those in mind, we can henceforth perceive the adventurers as an integral part to the medieval society, an effective carrier of information and goods, as well as able hands (or minds) to deal with local nuisances. Instead of being portrayed as social outcasts who hoard up treasure and make a name for themselves, somewhat detached from the rest of the community, adventurers and societies form a bipartite reliance that is built on connection, transaction, communication, aggression and protection.

In the end, though, adventurers can be whatever you want them to be in your game. Do they have to fit a specific social role in a fantasy setting for them to make sense? Certainly not, as long as you want to narrate an epic story, what purpose each adventurer has is of a lesser matter. What's interesting, however, is the history of the adventurer through D&D editions. I might tackle that at some point.

Wednesday 18 December 2019

Rules I don't use in B/X (or plan not to)

For all its glory as the epitome of old-school D&D, B/X still remains a product of its time, proposing rules and mechanics that today might seem frustrating, outdated, and do not bear any relevance today. This is due to the system still clinging to wargaming trappings and perception (check the combat round, for instance), coming in stark contrast with the evolving nature of D&D gaming, especially post-2000 era, that turned the game away from its wargaming roots and towards a more narrative experience. Most of my group has been gaming since the mid-90s (our youngest member started gaming about five years ago, while the oldest one used to play AD&D in the late '80s) so while we lean towards old-school sensibilities, we do bring a variety of gaming notions in our table, primarily thanks to our involvement with other genres and hobbies (board games, war games, video games, you name it games). Thus far, I've collected a few rules in B/X that I find unnecessary in my game. The party is still at low levels, so I have yet to touch on stronghold and army building, a character process that has since 3e been totally switched from being a core mechanic to a more or less situational affair.

First and foremost, the role of caller is nowadays redundant. Since we're talking groups of four or five at each sessions, there is no need for a coordinator between players, a single voice to dictate what each character does at any given time. Occasionally, a player occupies this role when we want to make haste while venturing a not so dangerous location or to briefly proceed with mundane actions. As for the role of mapper, my group is usually happy to just wander about and the few times someone sits down to draw a map is more likely to use it as reference, not tied to a certain character with mapping skills.

Second, alignment as presented in the book is in my opinion too restrictive and unimaginative. My take on the world's alignments deals with the cosmic struggle between Law and Chaos and which faction each character sides with, instead of a representation of one's morality and general behaviour. While quite distinct in theory, not much is different in function, except that now lawful characters don't switch to chaotic if they witness or participate in an "evil" act. Lawful now means that your character strives to uphold and defend the power of human civilisation and the ways of the Age of Man, whereas as a chaotic you try to undermine and eventually overthrow it in favour of wild nature and ethics of the Old World. A good analogy would be lawfuls coming from "civilised" lands whereas chaotics call the wilds home.

Third, resting after 5 turns of constantly moving in the dungeon (or other enclosed areas) seems odd. I can see that characters being stressed out for 50 minutes need to relax for a while, and I would also assume that since time is of the essence in dungeon delving, especially when wandering monsters may appear, I get the urgency of the group to make haste and rush the place. So, forcing the party to rest every 5 turns makes sense in this way, but feels weird to my players, who are used to a more narrative style of dungeon crawling. So far, we haven't run a true dungeon to test it, but I plan not to use it if it turns out more a chore than increasing tension.

Fourth, spell research severely limits magic-users and elves and, along with magic item crafting, can be quite an expensive affair for spellcasters. Judging by the amount of treasure my group recovers from adventuring, it almost feels impossible to have enough for spells or magic scrolls, essential items for the otherwise restricted spellcasters. I've borrowed Holmes' rules for magic scroll crafting, in that it requires 100 gp and one week per spell level of each spell; additionally, the spellcaster can craft magic scrolls at any level but must be able to cast the spell they want reproduced. As for spell research, magic-users and elves can use it to pick spells from the list at the cost of 100 gp and one week per spell level but must make a successful Intelligence check.

There are the evasion rules which we haven't even tried yet, stronghold, dominion and army rules which I don't think we will ever touch since we run a short-term campaign, and waterborne adventures which we might not check unless the group decides to board a ship to explore the river and its vicinity. As we test out more aspects of the game, and face the various rules and mechanics proposed, I shall update the blog accordingly.

Friday 13 December 2019

[Challenge of the Frog Idol] Session #9: The Haunted House Part I

The demise of the party in the latest expedition leaves the sole survivor, the halfling Li, with the responsibility to recruit a band of adventurers. It isn't that difficult, after all, as a bunch just visited the city of Coruvon in hopes of exploring the nearby Haunted House. Rumours say that hauntings and phantasmal lights come out of this decrepit mansion, just four miles south of the city, and its owner, a notorious alchemist who conducted all sorts of sinister experiments, hid a treasure of mythical proportions somewhere in the bowels of the house. With the prospect of filling their pockets, primarily his own then his party, with gold, Li and his new companions gather resources and hire retainers for the trip. They are informed by an aged poacher of its mysterious happenings and perilous haunts, and approached by Gylain, a City Council member, who shows interest in letting the council know of able adventurers investigating the haunted mansion, also hinting at possible rewards.

The next day, the characters embark on their short journey and reach the dilapidated house at noon. A brief exploration of the surroundings reveals the two-storied house looming on a steep cliff over 30 metres above the river, and three different entrances, along with a shallow well. Intrigued by its crumbling state, the characters enter the building through a back door from a ruined patio, only to be greeted by a booming, ghastly voice welcoming them. Fear then strikes their heart, and they scatter in all directions, running for their lives. A few turns later, and after regaining their composure, the characters delve deeper into the house, encountering numerous run-down rooms that show the alchemist's apparent lavish life. A few spiders and centipedes emerge from hidden nests to pose a danger to the party, but they are dealt with rather quickly.

It doesn't take long for the characters to realise they're not alone in the mansion. Their very first encounter is with another party of seven supposedly adventurers, who claim they also came looking for the alchemist's treasure. They seem friendly, if a bit aloof and reserved. While exploring the second floor, the party comes upon a tied and gagged man, who claims he was attacked in the previous night by unknown assailants. His belongings are bundled in a nearby room. The man, who comes by the name Ned Shakeshaft, decides to assist the characters in their investigation, and warns them of another party who may be ambushing them. So far, no sign of hauntings, except for the ethereal voice, has been found nor any amount of treasure has been recovered, which make the party skeptical over the rumours.

Characters involved
Rolf the Bold, fighter 1
Aurora, cleric 1
Li, halfling 1
Yudel, dwarf 1

Elaine, fighter 1 (retainer)
Raine the Despised, cleric 1 (retainer)

The session was straightforward and bore the classic trappings of haunted house adventures: creaking floors, strange noises, otherworldly wails and a dark secret hiding under the house. While at first, players were prepared to face any dangers from the Shadowlands (the land were the spirits of the dead reside, according to my homebrewed setting), by the end of the session they were almost certain there were no such things as hauntings and wondered whether the rumours of the alchemist's treasure were true. They were faced with few and easy encounters, and any poison inflicted was weak enough to not kill a character outright.

Sunday 8 December 2019

Thoughts on B6 - The Veiled Society


Hooded figures and dark corners, oh my!
The Veiled Society is, for its time, an ambitious and innovative adventure, presenting the characters with a series of set events that accompany a choose-your-own-adventure game. It has an urban setting, but also includes two half-dungeons, if such a term is to be used for these types of underground locales (a series of recently dug tunnels and the secret hideout of the Society). But it has also been described as a dull and uninspiring adventure, one that relies too much on key events to move the adventure forwards. Taken to the extreme, it can lead to a fairly linear game, where the characters are forced to experience a chain of events, without being able to change the course of the story. Whatever the case, The Veiled Society offers a few interesting ideas that a DM can work with to make the adventure shine.

My group seems to have enjoyed this module (at least, none of them has since made any complaints about it); most of the characters made it all the way through to the end, even though the first party was nearly decimated. In total, we had four character deaths, but that never deterred the players from venturing forth and unfolding the conspiracy behind the murder mystery. I can also say that there were moments that felt kinda disappointing. Overall, I have mixed opinions about this module that I share below.

1. The introductory scene helped setting the mood and the situation in the city, by having all three factions come into conflict from the very beginning. In my campaign, Coruvon has two supposedly rivalling factions, the City Garrison and the Red Lanterns, with the third (the Brotherhood of the Writhing Arm) being a secretive cult aimed at bringing a certain Old God back. While it shows a sample of what power struggles there are in the city, the introductory scene runs the risk of not engaging the characters. My group, being the cynical and impartial lot, decided to keep their distance from the event, at least inquiring the folk around to learn more about the opposing groups. Another party could potentially ignore the whole conflict altogether.

2. While the hook that lead the characters to the underground tunnels and, subsequently, to the location of the murdered woman (in my case, she was a high-ranking official of the city garrison) would classify as your typical introduction, sort of "monsters at the cellar" hook, it was placed in such a way that felt seamless to the rest of the particular scene. Players were exploring the underground tunnels out of curiosity, and not because they were forced to, and collected the pieces of information from almost all keyed locations (the slave business running in the shadows of the city, the Brotherhood's sinister plan of digging tunnels under specific buildings). A simple errand to investigate the "demons" under the poor lady's cellar turning into an exploration through the dark tunnels under the city and the discovery of a murdered person was certainly a surprise for the party. What I really liked in this section was its open-endedness, with tunnels branching out to unknown areas, left to the DM to insert a dungeon of their own making. This section I believe was one of the strongest in the module.

3. On the other hand, while the riot scene was chaotic (as intended), it had stuff I deemed unnecessary or maybe a bit too complicated. Had it been a scene were the opponents of the Red Lights decided to take matters into their own hands and thus raising an uproar against them and their city garrison allies, only for the revolt to die out a few days later, it would be understandable. But the scope of this scene stretches far beyond a mere riot being quickly suppressed. The characters are charged into commanding a restless crowd to clash with the city garrison, and details are given as to how to run such a battle. There's plenty of stuff going on and it can get confusing to implement them in-game. 1st-level characters facing a dirty-fighting 3rd-level thug? That's suicidal an action, let alone having a single character fighting that brute. Getting in the middle of the riot? My group wanted to stay away from any trouble, so they tried their best to keep their distance. At least, they decided to go after the orator but, unlike what the book proposes, they befriended him and he instead offered them the job to kill or capture the statesman from the next scene (that was my twist to link this to the next scene, since the early meetings with members from both factions turned sour - they were weak enough, anyway). It is also stated in the book that the Duke (in our case, the city commander) gathers hundreds of troops against the rioters, slaughtering anyone who looks suspicious or is rumoured to have been involved in the upheaval.  It would be very interesting to see the characters lead a mob against the town's rulers, but this would turn the whole campaign on its head. I agree it would still make for a great adventure, but had the renegade characters managed to plunge this land into turmoil, DMs would have to ditch this module and design something new.

4. After the characters help the Brotherhood of the Writhing Arm (the Veiled Society of my campaign) dealing with the statesman and his troupe of bodyguards, they are told to wait a few days before the Brotherhood contacts them again. But then the book jumps to the Chase event, where the Brotherhood inexplicably wants the characters out of the picture. I can see the reasoning had the characters opted instead to help the statesman and protect him from the Brotherhood's ambush, but it seems the designer forgot to develop the story where they side with the other faction. It is only stated that members of the Brotherhood identify the party as the investigators of the earlier murder and their leaders order an ambush. To fill this gap of inconsistency, I ruled out that the party was framed for the disappearance of the afore-mentioned statesman, and when the orator (the party's new friend) wished to warn them of such treachery, he was assassinated. The characters just happened to be moments after the orator was shot to death so this "ambush" was unplanned.

5. The chase scene was likewise poorly designed. The characters weren't surprised by the crossbowman's attack and won initiative, so they closed in on him; as a result, the "ambusher" was trapped and couldn't escape, thus triggering the next scene. I decided to let the bowmen approach the scene, since they heard commotion but couldn't see their fellow ambusher running for his life. They actually triggered the chase action scene. In addition, certain spells could turn the whole scene redundant. The party's magic-user cast her sleep spell on the bowmen, rendering all but one unconscious, due to her rolling badly. If this wasn't the case though, and the magic-user had rolled well enough to send all of the bowmen into torpor, there wouldn't be the need for a chase. As I anticipated such an occurrence, I used the note found in one of the ambushing bodies, that pointed to the Brotherhood's hideout. The party still managed to pick up the note and interrogate the surviving bowman, learning more about the Brotherhood.

Concluding, the Veiled Society can be labelled as a railroad-sandbox hybrid. The set events are meant to happen, and the characters are sort of forced to interact with the subjects presented in each event, but there's enough space to deal with them in a creative way, or try and avoid them (where's the fun in doing that, though?). Each scene is loosely connected with the previous and the next one, giving both the DM and the players the opportunity to go wild and develop their own story. Surely the module suffers from inconsistencies and a weak plot at times, but DMs can accomplish something worthwhile, with a little bit of prep work.

Tuesday 3 December 2019

[Challenge of the Frog Idol] Session #8: Ruins of Grey Dragon Hill

After their shady dealings with the recently appointed head of the family Wilfa Pheray, the characters reside at an inn, and spend a few days recuperating and hiring mercenaries for venturing out in the wilds. A fighter (Victor), the elf that was rescued in the previous adventure (Etaine) and three hobgoblins join the party. Rirna contacts Vyncis, a curator of the city library, who discovers the location of a treasure map that will lead them to an ancient god's lost shrine (and treasure), in a ruined castle a day and a half into the eastern hills. So the group gets prepared for the expedition and soon after, embarks towards the ragged hills.

Legend says that the Grey Dragon Hill was so called due to a ferocious wyrm attacking the old fortress some centuries ago. None survived its fiery attack, and there are rumours that all the people who lost their lives defending the fortress that day turned into vicious ghouls. While as a landmark, the Grey Dragon Hill is not easy to spot, people have nevertheless been avoiding the surrounding area, for fear of summoning the dragon or angering its undead army. According to the librarian's research, somewhere within the walls of this forlorn building the details of the Shrine of Plures, the Chaos god of rain, can be found there.

Without any incidents, and exploring the vicinity, the party arrives at the foot of the hillfort, and climbs the ruined stairs at a steady pace, to reach the edifice's only gate. Navigating through the few desolate rooms of the fortress in the only floor that's still standing, the party encounters some monstrous denizens that strip them of one hobgoblin, and come into contact with a group of kobolds who don't seem hostile enough; instead, they encourage the adventurers to venture deeper into the castle's dungeons and examine the creepy prison cell. Turns out, the strange, cold-emanating rune at the floor of the prison cell was hiding a secret trapdoor further deep into the ground, which the party follows in caution.

The stone stairways beneath Grey Dragon Hill reveal an ancient crypt. The party faces weird flying creatures at the very first room, in which a mystical throne hands them the key to the ominous iron door, and entrance to the crypt. Traversing some dusty corridors and flooded chambers, the adventurers happen upon two star-shaped keys, as well as a patrol of undead skeletons, and combat quickly ensues, with the second of the hobgoblins being felled. Exploring a little further, it seems that the crypt belonged to some magic-user with the power of necromancy, and intruders must have breached its defences at some point, only to die by the blades of its dire guardians. It is in that moment that the party is just realising what may have happened in those musty corridors, when they're trapped in a partially flooded chamber with a band of skeleton warriors wielding their rusted blades against them. And while it is a fierce and brave battle, nobody manages to make it through; rather, each one of the adventuring party falls victim to the crypt's eternal guardians. The last thing everyone remembers is the torch dropping on the wet floor, and darkness engulfing their surroundings.

Characters involved
Rirna, magic-user 1 [KIA]
Caledon, elf 1 [KIA]
Victor, fighter 1 [KIA]

Loc, Dur, Olka, hobgoblins (retainers) [KIA]
Etaine, elf 1 (retainer) [KIA]

The session, which lasted its full three hours, ended in a Total Party Kill. The dice leaned more in favour of the skeletons, while the players had a few missed opportunities (and missed rolls) to prevail. I didn't want them to travel the swamps, since it would deem too tough a journey for them, so I proposed we ran a prequel to their so-wanted expedition to the Shrine of Plures. It didn't turn out well for them, unfortunately, but such is the will of Lady Luck. For the dungeon, I picked and modified Dyson's dungeon of the same name, adding an extra layer with the help of watabou's One Page Dungeon. Good thing that B/X has a quick and easy character generation, and the players had already set up their new group of intrepid adventures, ready to set foot once again at Coruvon.

Thursday 28 November 2019

[Challenge of the Frog Idol] Session #7: Brotherhood of the Writhing Arm Part II

The latest venture has the characters lose a valuable member from their group, they nevertheless wait for the rest of the party to appear, while hiding the bodies inside some barrels at the backyard, so that they can all descend into the mysterious brotherhood's secret hideout. The problem is, the entrance to the hideout is nowhere to be seen. And none of the cultists seem to be around. Patience is a virtue, however, and while having decided to wait at the mead hall's common room, the characters notice a red-haired man limping to one of the back doors. Slowly following him, they end up in the same corridor that leads to the backyard. At that point, Caledon gets a feeling that a concealed door should be around and with a little searching, the group manages to gain access to a secret chamber, where red robes and black hood hang on the walls, for the initiated. The group decides to don the cultist robes and, disguised, start to infiltrate the hideout.

After walking the old, dimly lit corridors, the characters come upon an unholy meeting, where a score of hooded cultists listen to their leader's speech, inside the remains of an ancient shrine. While listening to the leader's rambling, the group witnesses in shock as one of the cultists, so-called "traitor", is stabbed multiple times and bleeds to death. Soon after, the ecstatic mass is over and everyone silently leaves the murderous scene. Investigating further, the characters discover another secret door, that leads away from the ancient shrine. On their way, they happen upon a cell, where a female elf is kept prisoner. After releasing her and taking her with them (the elf lady barely walking, with all the tortured she had suffered), they move forward to a door. Beyond the door, the group finds a strange scene: the body of an old man, lying on a pool of its own blood, and a crazed, middle-aged man pointing a bloodied sword against a younger man; they all bear the same colours and features. After a brief exchange of words, the crazed man rushes against the characters and mortally wounds Klag and Raven, before the rest beat him with might and magic. The young man thanks them profusely and explains the whole situation.

It seems the wealthy family of Pheray was behind the machinations of the Brotherhood of the Writhing Arm, a secret cult devoted to the ancient god Fruum, which also instigated all the sabotaging and attacking at the Red Lanterns. According to Wilfa, the only surviving member of the family who was rescued by the characters, the brotherhood's plans were two-fold: to crush the Red Lanterns who influenced the City Commander, a privilege they used to enjoy, and to explore the Black Mire in order to find Fruum's resting place and awaken him. As both father and older brother have met their demise, it befalls to the young brother to lead the family and the secret cult, who offers central roles in the cult's development and actions to the characters. Eager to have a wealthy and well-connected patron, the party agrees to Wilfa's offers.

Characters involved
Rirna, magic-user 1
Caledon, elf 1
Li, halfling 1
Raven, cleric 1 [KIA]

Klag, hobgoblin (retainer) [KIA]
Etaine, elf 1 (retainer)

This session concluded the module The Veiled Society. I have to say that, despite some issues with the adventure's weak plots and complex events that I'd like to discuss in another post (like why does the cult decide to assassinate the characters, when they worked for them the previous night), it was a blast for the players, as they felt most of the time they were driving the story. It was fun to see the party switching factions, from being employed by the Red Lanterns to having their own investigation to joining the Brotherhood, after breaking into their hideout. Nobody managed to gain a level, but they were very close, and would need a small adventure to go past level 1.

Saturday 23 November 2019

Infravision through the ages: WotC's darkvision

Previously, we talked about infravision and how it was implemented during TSR's reign. It went from a simple power of seeing in the dark to black-n-white visibility to colour thermal imaging with complicated mechanics. In the end, this ability served a variety of gamers, from casual to crunchy. Towards the company's end, TSR attempted to embrace both mechanics, even though the complex one would gain more popularity. This era is also the one I'm most well-versed and feel more comfortable, since Basic and 2e were my starting editions. Me and my early group went through the trouble of incorporating heat vision mechanics, but soon abandoned it in frustration.

When WotC came along and designed the next edition with unified mechanics and modular character customisation in mind, the ability received an overhaul that resembled less the messy, scientific explanation of its direct predecessors and more the traits of its old relatives. Perhaps its biggest change was its name; as it had nothing to do with infrared vision anymore, the term felt redudant and was dropped in favour of darkvision, a new, catchy term that was carried over to our day.

D&D 3rd edition immediately presented this new term, and function, without too much of an explanation as to why. We did receive Sean Reynold's opinion on infravision, though, and why the previous system was such a mess that it begged for rewriting. Judging by the new edition's attempt to simplify and unify various rules and mechanics, I certainly see reason to this. Anyway, in Player's Handbook v3.5 (pg. 14 and 19), we read the following:
Dwarves [or half-orcs] can see in the dark up to 60 feet. Darkvision is black and white only, but it is otherwise like normal sight, and dwarves [or half-orcs] can function just fine with no light at all.
Returning to the roots of OD&D, certain creatures had the ability to see in dark just as if in normal light. D&D 3e went a step further, however, and also presented a new ability called low-light vision, that enabled a creature to see further than a human (twice, to be exact) in, you guessed it, low-light conditions. Most non-human PC races had low-light vision; only dwarfs and half-orcs had darkvision. Checking the Glossary of the same book (pg. 307), we get a line that denotes darkvision as an extraordinary ability that enables whoever possesses it to see in the dark. Extraordinary (Ex) would become one of the few categories of special abilities that were affected by certain abilities, effects and spells, so its definition as extraordinary wasn't chosen randomly. A similar description appears in Dungeon Master's Guide v3.0 (pg. 74-75), along with more details concerning invisible creatures and gaze attacks. For the first time, though, we get notified that the presence of light does not spoil darkvision, contrary to what held true with infravision. Also, we are presented with two neat images of normal sight and darkvision.

Lo and behold, darkvision, in all its glory

D&D 4th edition somewhat retains the ability of darkvision from 3e, but there's no definition as to how things are seen in darkness and, more importantly, up to how far. Moreover, rules in regards to light (or its absence) get crunchier. Now, we have three types of lit areas: brightly lit (daylight), dimly lit (shadowy areas, moonlight), and totally dark. What light condition you find yourself into may affect your character's abilities and functions, depending on which type of vision you employ. In Player's Handbook I (pg. 262) it is stated that only characters with darkvision can see in total darkness without penalty; by its wording alone, it is assumed that darkvision works as normal sight. What's interesting is that no core race now possesses darkvision; instead, they gain either normal or low-light vision, which has been changed to enable characters to see in dimly lit areas as if they were in normal light. That is quite a drastic change of rules, but one to accommodate the edition's new mechanics. Dungeon Master's Guide (pg 67) gives us a better, albeit brief, explanation of the three types of vision, which I quote:
Creatures that have normal vision see normally in areas of bright light. Areas of dim light are lightly obscured. Areas of darkness are totally obscured.
Creatures that have low-light vision see normally in areas of bright and dim light. Areas of darkness are totally obscured.
Darkvision lets creatures see normally regardless of light.
So a creature (not a character anymore) with darkvision can see normally in any light condition. Characters with normal vision can see fine in bright light, but have difficulties in dim light. Characters with low-light vision can see fine in both bright and dim light. All characters suffer penalties when in the dark, which necessitates the use of artificial light. Darkvision now isn't a special mode of vision that switches on whenever light fades away, nor is it hindered by any means of light (artificial or not). Creatures that use darkvision don't seem to notice any differences in light condition - now whether this adds a new twist that cunning adventurers can use to their advantage or not is beyond me, as I haven't yet found any info on such particular occurrence.

D&D 5th edition (the current, as of this writing) reverts back to D&D 3e in some way, regarding the way things are seen with darkvision. As for its function, it is once again overhauled, also adopting some of the rules for light conditions from D&D 4e. As we can read in Player's Handbook (pg 183-184):
Within a specified range, a creature with darkvision can see in darkness as if the darkness were dim light, so areas of darkness are only lightly obscured as far as that creature is concerned. However, the creature can't discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.
Darkvision gets limited in distance now, which implies that it's an ability activated whenever certain conditions are met. According to the rules, there are three types of light conditions: brightly lit, dimly lit (lightly obscured), and dark (heavily obscured). Creatures in heavily obscured areas cannot see a thing and thus are effectively blinded. Lightly obscured areas only seem to affect your Perception skill, and some abilities allow you to hide. Interestingly, there is no low-light vision any longer; instead, six out of the nine core races now possess darkvision.

As can be plainly seen, darkvision went a long way from when, as infravision, it was just the dividing factor between seeing or not seeing in darkness. It also gained a plethora of mechanics; especially in the two latest editions, light conditions received their distinct set of rules that would affect actions in any given situation. This matches with the perception of post-2000s editions being more technical and precise in their descriptions, most probably to avoid any misconceptions, vagueness, and of course rules abuse. One could notice that the ability of seeing in the dark has changed substantially over the editions but still persists as a trait for various nonhumans that gives them an extra advantage in the absence of light, over humans. Some find it too unrealistic an ability to exist at least amongst the playable races; others fully embrace it as either a gaming or narrative perk (or even both). Whether players like it or not, however, it serves a two-fold purpose: to better manage one's powers and abilities in an otherwise tricky situation (crunch) and to add to the mystifying and exotic nature of nonhumans (fluff). That's also the only common theme that can be perceived throughout all the editions.

Wednesday 20 November 2019

Infravision through the ages: TSR's infravision

As if there weren't enough "[insert D&D term] through the ages" on the internet, I decided to add my own by doing some research on a topic mainly prompted by Jeff's recent blog post on infravision.

In case one is not in the know, infravision in short lets a character see in the dark, albeit up to a limited distance. The term was used extensively during the TSR era, then WotC switched it to darkvision (they also used low-light vision, which is a different thing). Trying to explain this ability scientifically proves more problematic, as it raises all sorts of questions regarding what can be seen through infravision (there's half a page on that at least in 2e DMG). In my group, we just rule that infravision allows you to see in total darkness, period. And that any type of light blocks your infravision. This proves really handy with nonhumans venturing underground, as view is extended at 60 feet, compared to a torch's 30 feet; unfortunately, there is always a human in our party, so we end up resorting to artificial light.

However, has infravision always worked as intended in the first place, like what Gygax envisioned back in the mid-seventies? Interestingly, there are plenty of variations and vague rules, as it turns out, but it's better to read each edition's iteration of said ability (on writing this, I happened on Daniel's blog post, which discusses almost the same thing - I couldn't help but feel unnecessary, but I kept on writing it nevertheless).

* For an explanation of following abbreviations, I recommend Wikipedia's article on D&D editions.

OD&D has a few things on infravision, or rather the ability to see in the dark. By checking Book II: Monsters & Treasure (pg. 5), we read the following:
Special ability functions are generally as indicated in CHAINMAIL where not contradictory to the information stated herineafter, and it is generally true that any monster or man can see in total darkness as far as the dungeons are concerned except player characters.
This edition refers to its predecessor, so we need to consult CHAINMAIL rules for that. On its 3rd edition, Appendix D, there is the Fantasy Reference Table (pg. 43) which includes an interesting footnote:
The ability to see in normal darkness as if it were light
Access to this special ability is granted to, amongst others, dwarfs and gnomes, goblins and kobolds, elves and fairies, orcs, wizards etc. There is no special term; the ability is simply footnote B, but is clearly what would later become the main divider between humans and nonhumans. That unnamed ability would be seen again in D&D Supplement I: Greyhawk (pg. 5), where it gains its all-too-familiar term:
[dwarves and elves] have infravision and can see monsters up to 60' away in the dark.
This is possibly the very first instance of the term infravision that we see in a D&D book. There are no exact rules as to how this is done, only that dwarfs and elves are able to discern monsters in the dark. This, however, doesn't imply that they can see normally in darkness, only monsters within range, which leaves room for fanciful interpretation. Since the word is related to infrared radiation (IR), one would assume that it functions as such.

D&D Basic (or Holmes) again mentions infravision, but does no effort in explaining what exactly it is, only that it allows certain creatures to see in the dark. From the rulebook (pg. 6 and 9):
[Dwarves] have infravision and can see 60 feet in the dark. [Elves] have infravision; like dwarves, they can see 60 feet in the dark.
Elves and dwarves can see 60 feet in the dark, as can all monsters [...]
Generally, as an introduction to Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, it makes sense that no further explanation was needed for infravision; apparently, the term was taken from Supplement I and if one needed more information on that, the multitude of suggestions to turn to the AD&D books were more than enough.

AD&D 1st edition is the first to expand on the rules of infravision. Reading the relevant entry in the Players Handbook (pg. 102):
As previously mentioned, infravision is the ability to see into the infrared spectrum. Thus heat radiation becomes visible and differences in temperature allow infrared sight. Warm things are bright, cool things grey, very cold things are black.
The text goes even further; infravision now is spoiled if a light or heat source is close to the viewer, and there are also rules for thieves on how to hide from such an ability. Dungeon Masters Guide gives us for the first time a glimpse of what it is like to see through the infrared spectrum, along with more explaining on the ability (pg. 59).

Visualisation sample of infravision in DMG

D&D B/X (or Moldvay/Cook) would carry on the rules detailed in AD&D 1e. The Basic Rulebook (pg. B21) has the following on infravision:
Infravision is the ability to "see" heat patterns. Most living things give off heat. To infravision, warm things are bright, cool things are gray, and cold things are black. Infravision is useless in normal or magical light. Infravision cannot be used to read without light. All non-human monsters have infravision.
Not much different, except for the part where reading in the dark is concerned, something that I don't think was addressed in AD&D 1e (but then again, that edition was huge on rules and explanations of all sorts, so I might have missed it somewhere).

D&D BECMI (or Mentzer), strangely enough, changes some of its function. In Players Manual (pg. 45 and 46 of the Basic Set), the entry for dwarfish and elfin vision reads as follows:
With infravision, warm things seem red, and cold things seem blue. For example, an approaching creature could be seen as a red shape, leaving faint reddish footprints. A cold pool of water would seem a deep blue color. Even items or creatures which are the same temperature as the surrounding air (such as a table or a skeleton) can be dimly seen by infravision.
If up to B/X, infravision was limited in shades of black and white, BECMI now introduced colour to our sight (sort of coloured thermal imaging). According to this website on thermal cameras, devices that depict temperature in colour may be lacking on detail, and infravision's new twist mentions that, even suggesting that characters with such vision should take extra care not to fall into pits and other natural hazards (pg. 57 of the same book).

AD&D 2nd edition goes back to simpler times, where ability descriptions were kept to a minimum. Well, kinda; the Glossary in Revised Player's Handbook (pg. 14) gives us this entry:
Infravision - the ability of certain character races or monsters to see in the dark. Infravision generally works up to 60 feet in the darkness.
Any other information pertaining to infravision directs us to DMG. There (pg. 160 of Revised Dungeon Master's Guide), we actually get two types of infravision: the standard, which allows the characters and monsters to simply see in the dark as in normal light; and the optional, giving a much more detailed description, combining the extended analysis of AD&D 1e and the function of BECMI (AD&D 1e infravision, now in colour). In its attempt to clean up the mess its previous edition left, I can't help but feel 2e strove to embrace both types of infravision, to cater for different tastes.

D&D Rules Cyclopedia would follow in the steps of BECMI, adding a few more details, as shown below (pg. 24):
Characters with infravision can even see items or creatures the same temperature as the surrounding air (such as a table or a skeleton) [...] Until they move, they will be very faint to the eye; once they start moving, they become blurry but very obvious light-blue figures. [...] Infravision isn't good enough to read by. A character can use his infravision to recognize an individual only if they are within 10' distance [...]
From what we can see, RC attempted to address any issues that were raised with BECMI concerning infravision, and to better clarify the latter's definition. Probably this, and AD&D 2e's optional method, would be the most popular way of interpreting infravision during TSR's last years, and the one mostly associated with the term; it was also the one I was immersed in and while me and my group in our early years tried to emulate that thermal vision, we eventually settled down to the standard method. That is, before WotC took over and changed things, once again.

Next: New name, new mechanic for infravision

Friday 15 November 2019

[Challenge of the Frog Idol] Session #6: Brotherhood of the Writhing Arm Part I

As the characters recuperate at their hovel, they decide to look more into the recent events and their current situation. Strangely, a wanted poster bears their description so it'd be better to lay low for a while at least. Two of their party go on their own private business, while the rest are contacted by an street urchin (the same who was seen the night before the attack on the statesman) to urgently meet the orator and instigator of last night's riot. Maybe he's got some info about them being framed all of a sudden, something probably perpetrated by the Brotherhood. When they arrive, however, at the meeting point, their contact is already dead, killed by a crossbow bolt. At the same time, the characters are being ambushed by a crossbowman, who furiously cranks his weapon for a shot. Luckily, they act fast and Rirna casts her sleep spell to disable the attacker.

As they search the body, the characters find a note that mentions a meeting tonight at Blue Water Mead Hall. A slap in the face, and the crossbowman wakes up to be interrogated by Grom, the party's muscle. Before he talks, however, an arrow pierces his heart, and another volley of arrows are aimed at the party. Bowmen attack the characters, who expertly evade them and start rushing towards them, calling for a chase scene. The bowmen run like mad, quick-paced Rirna follows along and shoots her daggers at them, while the rest, being heavily-armoured, lag behind. Plenty of obstacles and navigation through the maze-like streets later and two of the bowmen lie dead while the third one is wounded and captured in the middle of a crowd fleeing the various riots around the city. He confirms what the note says and only knows that he was paid to ambush any group that arrives at said location. Taking advantage of the panic in the streets, Grom crushes the bowman's head.

With the location of the Brotherhood's hideout known, the characters inform the other two members of the party and head to the Mead Hall, where they get into a bloody conflict with two guards at the backyard. Even though they manage to get past them rather swiftly, the battle isn't without losses, as Grom leaves his last breath, severely injured from the enemies' steel. The two surviving characters then decide to wait for the rest to arrive, before venturing further into the Brotherhood hideout.

Characters involved
Rirna, magic-user 1
Caledon, elf 1
Grom, fighter 1 [KIA]
Klag, hobgoblin (retainer)

This session felt a bit railroady, but was quick-paced and action-oriented, with the chase taking up most of the gaming time, so the players didn't mind. The Brotherhood's double-crossing had its impact on the players, who immediately jumped at the opportunity to investigate this mysterious cult and possibly punish them for their troubles. Two of the group couldn't make it, so their characters went off to someplace else. Problem is, had they been present, the last battle might have not ended badly for the fighter. It was a risk the players already knew and opted to face.

Sunday 10 November 2019

Classes of The Dungeon Part II: Non-humans

There has been enough of a discussion for this topic, Basic D&D's take on races as distinct classes, which for this particular type of gaming, I'm all for it. Apart from sake of simplicity, there are interesting explanations of why one should consider incorporating the race-as-class mechanic in their fantasy games, amongst them Erin's view, Courtney's thoughts, and Jonathan's take, to name a few. Overall, the concept of race-as-class is based on three assumptions:

1. The world is dominated by humans, while the rest of the races are in decline or a minority.
2. Non-human (or more officially, demi-human) societies are totally alien to human minds. What we take for granted isn't necessarily true for those races.
3. The rarity of a race and its distinctiveness from human classes fit perfectly with sword and sorcery settings.

Taking those assumptions into consideration, I attempted to design the three non-human classes as distant to humans, but as close to their B/X counterparts, as possible. Truth be told, I was heavily inspired by what James presented as dwarfs and elves in his Dwimmermount setting (some would say I shamelessly ripped them off; I don't blame you, they're the most creative works on non-humans I've seen so far). Halflings, however, are designed totally from scratch (or so I think, at least; I fail to recall any inspirations).

Dwarf

Dwarfs are rock elementals that bear all features of a typical fantasy dwarf but for a single fact that they're living constructs who gain life through a long and costly ritual, as their "creators" carve them out of a slab of rock, enriched with precious metals and gemstones. As long as the ritual is successful, the newly-born dwarf acquires the shape and abilities of its sculptor-progenitor. While anatomically male, dwarfs have no such notions of age and sex in their lives and the only indication of growing old is their skin reverting back to its original material, that of stone. This is a slow process that takes several centuries and also a sign for the dwarf to head back to its stronghold and prepare for its "funeral".

So far, the only function humans are aware of dwarfs is their need to tirelessly labour at their workshops, and collect precious stones and metals in order to "carve" their offsprings, who will carry on with their chores. This looks like the only logical motivation for dwarf adventurers. Like elves, dwarfs are few in numbers, and constantly decrease, due possibly to their slow and arduous procreation, but dwarfs don't seem to seek any alternatives, as if embracing their impending doom. Some also claim their hivemind mentality which remains firmly rooted in dwarfish ancient traditions and refuses to acknowledge any evolutionary inventions.

Dwarfs have the same abilities as shown in the B/X rulebook. A player once proposed to use Golem and Yiddish names for dwarfs, and it has stuck since.

Elf

Elves are a race shrouded in mystery; nothing is known about them, apart from fragmentary observations surrounding their secluded communities. Their claim of living for millennia (in human years, their life cycle is too complex for the mortal mind to even comprehend), no apparent signs of age and lack of children in their camps have led many to believe that elves had once made a dark pact with the Lords of Chaos for eternal youth and beauty - as humans consider the soul to be interwoven with life and procreation, elves must be soulless. This is further confirmed by their immunities against certain undead attacks as well as their inability to return or be contacted from the dead. This belief is quickly dismissed as tell-tale, as elves don't sport any of the weaknesses common to the undead (holy water, cleric turning, aversion to light, etc.). Interestingly, though, when an elf dies, it slowly turns into ash.

Part of human history speaks of a mighty elfin empire that collapsed centuries ago. Elves never talk about their tragic story, but one can notice a bitterness in their eyes. Nonetheless, elves stand proud and detached, as if emotionless. One thing is certain though: they are drawn towards magic like moths to fire. Their passion for collecting spells and magic items could be linked to their dark past, although nobody says with certainty that magic is the key to their eternal curse. Of last note, and adding to their mystery, is that even though elves are encountered bearing two distinct sexes, this is not their true nature and they're simply imitating human anatomy.

Elves are immune to undead paralysis and energy drain, but are vulnerable to fire, taking an extra point for each die of damage (1d6+1, 2d6+2 etc.). Out of all their normal abilities, indicated in the rulebook, they don't have infravision. As noted earlier, elves cannot be raised or magically contacted from the dead. So far, there are no known naming conventions for elves.


Halfling

Halflings have been found alongside humans ever since the latter walked the lands. While more accepted than the other races, halflings do claim an eerie nature. Shady figures, they appear sober, cynical, and secretive; it is often believed that they are creatures of the night, spies of powerful vampires who live under the cities, and they feed on the blood of their victims. Even though such rumours are usually dismissed as false, they all share a common theme: that halflings are creatures of the Shadows. As one can note from their uncanny ability to hide in shadows, halflings seem to have an intimate relationship with dimly lit spaces, while they express an aversion to bright light. Legend has it that halflings are born from the shadows of the mortal folk. Natives to the Shadowlands, where the spirits of the dead reside, halflings emerge as personifications of dark secrets and thoughts, inexplicably drawn towards the shadows of humans which, is said, act as magical portals between the mortal world and the world of the dead.

Halfling communities are secluded and introvert. Their most common occupation is pipeweed farming and woodcrafting, but they also fancy secrets of all sorts - halflings are known for collecting information about people, locations, and objects. "Ask a halfling" goes a saying, and not a few of the shady folk can be found in the service of spy networks and other information-gathering groups.

Halflings retain all of their abilities, per the rulebook, and only their hiding ability is modified, to accommodate for their expertise in indoors sneaking, as shown on the following table:


Halflings don't have any naming conventions but usually employ simple names, often with one or two syllables. Puck, Kull, Reggo, Anouk, Rapha, Tell are good examples.

Wednesday 6 November 2019

Classes of The Dungeon Part I: Humans

Part of my slow world-building has been the introduction of the D&D classes in a minimal way that my group could take advantage of and craft their own takes. Needless to say, it didn't turn out as I hoped it would, and I ended up building much of the classes' backstory. Perhaps this had to do with my players being happy enough to be handed a general overview of the world and its classes, and build from there, instead of having the freedom to weave their own narrative into The Dungeon.

Whatever the case, I wanted to consult various sources before I could work on my version for each class. Out of the seven classes, I believe only the halfling is an original work. The rest are either slightly modified versions of existing B/X classes, or inspired/borrowed from well-known settings. This post will deal with the human classes, while non-humans will be included in a later post.

Cleric

Clerics have a two-fold role in human societies: on one hand they serve as guides, leaders and teachers in both peace and war times; on the other hand, they wander the world as zealots and holy warriors to vanquish the opponents of their patron deity. This two-fold role can be also seen in their composition of abilities, both martial and magical. Trained in Orders or Cults (Lawful and Chaotic, respectively; Neutral clerics are almost non-existent), clerics are chosen by the cosmic forces of Law and Chaos as their mystical champions, divine agents who bear the essence of the very force they so fiercely advocate and with which they gain their supernatural abilities. Aspects of each cosmic force appear as deities to humans and function as conduits between the cleric and the cosmic force, but they are not the ones who will judge their proponents by their acts. Instead, it comes upon each cleric to better understand the teachings of Law and Chaos and act accordingly. This is the ultimate trial from which true defenders of the cosmic forces emerge.

The class of the cleric was mainly inspired by Anders's take on the cleric as a mystical champion, namely the gish. Lawful clerics are required to wield blunt weapons (symbols of human dominance: club, mace, war hammer, sling) and seldom use reversible spells, while chaotic clerics must use bladed weapons (double-edged side of Chaos: dagger, short sword, hand axe) but have free access to reversible spells.

Fighter

Fighters are not just fighting men and women, but humans expertly trained in the arts of war. Able to defend themselves with powerful armour and wield whatever weapon they have in hand against their enemies, fighters make for a sure choice when peaceful methods fail. Kingdoms depend on armies of fighters and cities seek them out for their defence and order. Together with dwarfs, fighter can withstand blows that would prove fatal to others. It's therefore easy to assume fighters fill so many positions in conflict-centred human society, from the lowly thug to the grand general of the army.

The class of the fighter hasn't changed much. Along with the dwarf, the elf, and the halfling, fighters can fight while blinded, albeit with a -4 penalty to their attacks. At 5th level, fighters gain an additional attack when fighting, which may be with the same weapon or a different one.

Magic-User

Magic-users are mystifying folk, entwined with possibly the most powerful and dangerous power: magic. How mankind came into possession of such a power is lost in the ages, what is known though is that magic manifests into different facets and sources, where magic-users draw and empower their spells, from alchemical formulae to philosophical ideas, ancient texts of invocations to the Lords of Chaos, even dark pacts with creatures outside the known world. Magic-users do not serve any special role in human society, so they tend to be loners, their knowledge however is invaluable and can offer their skills as alchemists, scholars, physicians or prophets/astrologers in various communities. Even though magic is considered a product of Chaos, and some hunt it down, magic-users can differ and embrace any side of the cosmic struggle.

The class of the magic-user has no special modifications, other than flavouring. Magic-users can use alchemist's supplies (25 gp, 10 cns) to brew minor potions and antitoxins. At the start of each day, they can attempt to read signs and omens, rolling 2d6. A roll of 2-3 indicates bad luck for the party (-1 to all rolls for the rest of the day); a roll of 4-9 shows no remarkable signs; a roll of 10-12 shows favourable signs to the party (+1 to saving throws for the rest of the day). Along with elves, they gain more starting spells equal to 1 plus their Intelligence modifier (minimum of 1). It is strongly recommended one of the starting spells is Read Magic.

Thief

Thieves consist of a special class in the human society, bringing forth a range of skills to aid them at their job. Weak in combat like magic-users, they specialise in bypassing obstacles towards their goal, which may be hidden behind traps, locked doors, cliffs, backs of guards and pockets of nobles. While thieves are called many names (scoundrels, gamblers, treasure hunters, bandits, scouts etc.), their methods are in many ways the same. They may be deemed as parasitic in human societies, but everyone sooner or later enlists their skills to find and obtain a certain target, either living or not.

The class of the thief has its skills been revamped, incorporating Dyson's 2d6 thief skill system. Skill were bumped a notch (generous by some) to have better chances of succeeding in any of its skills. As one pointed out some time ago in The Piazza, a thief with a measly 15% to open locks would be kicked out of any thieves guild instantly. Increasing the chances at 1st level between 30% and 40% gives the thief character more incentive to gamble on risky situations.

All thief skills, except for Hear Noise, are tested by rolling 2d6 and adding the thief's Dexterity modifier. If the result is equal to or higher than the number indicated, the thief has successfully made the check. Hear Noise requires an unmodified 1d6 roll. As for Pick Pockets, if a thief fails by 4 or more, then is being caught in the act!

Saturday 2 November 2019

The Campaign Thus Far [Challenge of the Frog Idol]

This post (and subsequent ones) will record the (mis)adventures and exploitations of our intrepid party in the region of the Black Mire and the city of Coruvon. Thus far, we have run five sessions, the summary of which I shall present here.

In Session #1: Ill Met in the Dungeon Part I, after a long journey from the north, the characters (Rodderic of Tyria, thief; Rodric, cleric; Dragnuk, dwarf) arrive with the last caravan at a waystation just before Coruvon. Just as they prepare to rest, the innkeeper introduces them to the mysterious owner of the waystation who promises them riches; this is all a facade, though, and under vile witchcraft, the characters end up prisoners in the Iron Overlord's dungeon. Their incarceration is brief, as they deceive their rather dull captors (a hobgoblin and a bandit) and break free. Exploring a little further, they also collect their equipment, and now can brave the dimly lit dungeon complex.

In Session #2: Ill Met in the Dungeon Part II, exploring the dungeon complex lead the characters into clash with bandits and lackeys of the Iron Overlord, who quickly betrayed their master, when things looked sour for them. A rather brief interrogation revealed that the Iron Overlord is behind a network of slavery, with the city's arena the main client. After finding the exit from the dungeons, the characters decided to avenge their incarceration and give an end to their captor's slave business. But the master of the dungeon and head of the slavery network is the mysterious owner of the waystation and also a potent magic-user, who trapped the characters and punished them for being "unruly slaves".

The first two sessions lead to a TPK but served as an introductory adventure for the players to be immersed in the decadent and dangerous lands they were about to explore, and also to better grasp the fluff and crunch of D&D B/X. I used a mix of a dungeon from D&D 5e Starter Set (particularly the Redbrand Hideout) and the Black Box (Zanzer's Dungeon).

In Session #3: Welcome to Coruvon Part I, new adventures (Rirna, magic-user; Blade, thief; Puck the Whisperer, halfling; Caledon, elf) step foot in Coruvon, also known as the Swamp Arena. Right at their arrival, they notice the city has more issues than shown: abandoned buildings, corrupt guards, and seemingly a conflict between the Red Lanterns and the City Garrison. Soon after, the characters are being approached by two factions: a broad-shouldered man with scarred hands, who claims to be working for the matrons of the Red Lanterns, and a mysterious person accompanied by a group of hooded men and women. Both want to employ the characters for the next days, without giving out any details.

In Session #4: Welcome to Coruvon Part II, a seemingly simple investigation of "demons" under a house plunges the characters into a complex of recently-dug tunnels, with undead hiding beneath rubble, hobgoblins and slaves digging underground passages, and hooded folk trying to bury a corpse that belongs to an officer of the city garrison, murdered under mysterious circumstances. Their investigation reveals a lot about the culprit and the crime, but the motives remain unknown and danger lurks everywhere down there - two of the four adventurers left their last breath in these dark passages (Blade and Whisperer), and the third (Caledon) had the Lords of Chaos smile upon him and survived an otherwise fatal combat. A hobgoblin they captured talked about the involvement of the Iron Overlord and a wealthy family with various members in high-ranking positions in the city; still, the characters are perplexed by how all these are connected.

In Session #5: Murder, She Said, the hobgoblin helps the characters find their way out and escape in their temporary lodge, only to be arrested and interrogated by the city garrison a few hours later. The clues imply that members of the Red Lanterns were behind the assassination, even though the characters are skeptical. News of the officer's murder spread around the city, and a general turmoil emerges, with hot heads speaking against the crimes of the Red Lanterns, as the characters are being joined by more people (Raven, Grom, Koulian) and trying to piece out the puzzles behind the murder and the involving factions. Accidentally or not, the characters are being charged as the instigators of a riot in the city's market, which is violently suppressed by the city garrison. The person who first ignited the upheaval is being chased down and after a brief meeting with the characters, where he claims he is one of the Brotherhood, he directs them to a location where more hooded people enlist them so they can get rid of a statesman.

By fifth session, we had grown our group to five players. These three sessions served as an introduction to the city of Coruvon and the power struggle between its two main factions, the Red Lanterns and the City Garrison. I chose to run The Veiled Society, modified to suit the factions involved and the setting, since I feel it's a rather easy urban adventure for low-level characters with enough mystery and little combat and perfect to show the intrigues of Coruvon.

Saturday 26 October 2019

Small dungeons for your one-shot sessions

It came to my attention that this amazing fellow, watabou, has produced a tool to randomly generate small dungeons with a bit of flavour text, ideal for one-shot sessions or brief underground expeditions for my lowly group. These are perfectly suited for old-school dungeon crawling, and the generator is aptly named One Page Dungeon.

I knew watabou for his excellent Medieval Fantasy City Generator, by visiting his website however, I found that he's the host of all sorts of generators and games, based on procedural generation.

Make sure to visit his humble website and check out all goodies he has to offer (as well as his Patreon site). A remark, though, his work is best viewed (or played) on Google Chrome. For some reason, Mozilla's Firefox (my default browser) refuses to cooperate with his creations.

Saturday 19 October 2019

My B/X House Rules

When I eventually decided to cut my teeth on B/X, I wanted to do some good research on rules, mechanics, and the general feel of the game system. There would be odd choices in our game (like race-as-class, limited armoury, general lack of ability checks) so I wanted to better acquaint myself with the system as it was used back then, and better grasp the game design of late '70s and early '80s. So I did what would anyone naturally do, started reading the books and any blogs that discussed them. To my dismay, I realised that all editions of D&D Basic (Holmes, B/X, BECMI, RC) had significant differences, enough to spark mini wars between Basic gamers. My main thought was that most of the differences were of an aesthetic nature, maybe a few extra rules here and there, so when I picked the 1994 Classic D&D edition (as it was the first available at that time), I initially assumed that it was a "cleaned up" version of B/X. How erroneous of me.
This was my first foray into D&D. It was quickly replaced by the AD&D introductory boxed set.
Not that if I chose to stick with this edition, my B/X games would be unplayable, but there were things that changed over the years. Giving out my printed B/X rulebooks to my players while basing my campaign on a latter edition would only make things more confusing (at some point, I will discuss those tiny details that make B/X different from BECMI and RC, but I need time to sit down and note them all). Still, that never stopped me from not going all-out RAW; rather, I found myself writing down a few house rules for things that either I couldn't find any references in the books or I didn't quite agree with how they were implemented.

Two-weapon fighting. For this one, I borrowed Blackrazor's proposed rule for handling weapons in both your hands. Basically, it goes like this:
1. You need at least a Dexterity score of 13 to effectively use two weapons in combat. You can carry a weapon in both hands, but you don't gain any benefits if you have less than 13 in your Dexterity score.
2. If you have a Strength score of 13 or higher, you can wield a Medium weapon in both hands; otherwise, your off-hand weapon must be Small.
3. Fighting with two weapons is treated as a single attack; you don't need to roll separately for each weapon. Abstract as the combat may be, it is assumed that on your turn, you try to maximise your efforts in scoring a hit by using two weapons instead of one. While you lose the benefit of using a shield, and thus improving your AC, you gain the benefit of scoring on average a higher amount of damage.
4. Whenever you successfully attack with two weapons, roll both weapon damage dice and pick the highest roll. Add any Strength modifier to that damage.

Hit Points. I believe this entry needs a post on its own, but I'll try and be brief here. I consider hit points to be an abstract mechanic, less like one's physical stamina and more like difficulty to be hit (and bite the dust). To me (and I would assume in Arneson's mind too) hit points represent some sort of damage reduction against any harm. A swinging axe, a magic missile, a pit full of spikes, you name it. Your puny 1st level thief might not be able to defend themselves against a hobgoblin's attack, but a fighter knows how to turn that killing blow into a glancing one. Sure, Constitution bonuses add to your hit point total; you gritting your teeth and trying to ignore that painful stab you just received shows your increased resistance to damage. But so does your experience level, reflecting all the accumulated knowledge from adventuring and braving all those dangers. Resting therefore gives you not only the benefit of healing naturally but also to evaluate your experiences. For each hit point being healed naturally, a character gains 10 XP.

Ability Checks. I plan on using ability checks sparingly. Earlier versions of D&D (including B/X) didn't have such notions of skills checks and thus I want my players to think first then roll, if at all (luckily, they're old school gamers, so they are used to this type of play). In the few cases that I allow an ability check, I have two methods; the first one is taken from DungeonWorld and reserved for tests that may add complications to the result. An example: a magic-user visited the local library and asked to do some research on ancient deities. I called for an Intelligence check and she got a result of 8. That's a success with a complication, so I decided that she gleaned a little information, but the managing librarian would help her get access to more, as long as she brought an artefact from the nearby swamp.


The second one was taken from Jeff's alternate stat checks; in actuality, using the retainer morale column from Charisma. I use this method when I strive for binary results, success or failure. An example: that same magic-user was investigating a crime scene for clues. I called for another Intelligence check and this time she rolled a 10 (her Intelligence score of 16 allowed her to succeed on a 9 or lower), thus missing that dropped ring near the trapdoor.


Armour Cost. I've found that chain and plate armour are significantly cheap, compared to leather. So I ruled out that chain armour costs 80gp and plate 320gp. That way, I ensure that no warrior class starts at 1st level with AC 3 or lower (even though a fighter with chain armour, a shield and a good Dexterity can go below that number). It won't take long for them, however, to get their hands on treasure big enough to afford a couple of those suits.

Magic-user Spells and Research. B/X has magic-users and elves begin adventuring with a single spell and they can't copy spells from other spell books or magic scrolls. I find that quite limiting, so I proposed a few rules:
1. A magic-user or elf begins adventuring with an amount of spells equal to their Intelligence modifier plus one. An elf, for instance, with an Intelligence score of 15 starts with two spells. From these starting spells, one is recommended to be read magic, while the rest are chosen randomly.
2. Spells can be copied from magic scrolls, after they have been identified with a read magic spell, but they are destroyed after such use.
3. Crafting a magic scroll requires 100gp and one week per spell level. A magic-user or elf can only craft magic scrolls with spells they already know and must have access to a relevant workshop.

Weapon Groups. Some weapons just make no sense; the battle axe, for instance, costs 7gp, is considered a two-handed weapon and deals 1d8 damage. By contrast, the normal sword costs 10gp, can be wielded with one hand and deals the same amount of damage. In a game where there is an abundance of gold, why would anyone bother with a battle axe? I've got this inspiration from a blog I can't recall at the moment Delta's blog, that placed some weapons under certain groups with specific abilities. Hence, my take:
Daggers and swords (dagger, short sword, sword) are light and compact weapons. They're easily worn on scabbards and can be used in tight spaces to thrust at an opponent.
Spears (spear, staff, polearm) provide reach. For the first round of combat and only, wielders of such weapons receive an extra attack against their opponents, if they approach them for melee with a shorter weapon.
Axes (battle axe, hand axe) can sometimes penetrate heavy armour. Axe wielders gain a +1 bonus to attack opponents with AC 5 or lower.
Blunts (club, mace, war hammer) can deliver heavy blows by hitting harder. Users of blunt weapons gain a +2 bonus to damage if they score an attack that exceeds an opponent's AC by 5. Dwarfs, elves, and halflings need exceed by 4, whereas fighters need only 3.

That's enough, for now. As I delve deeper into B/X, I might come up with more house rules, but this will be another post for another time.

Sunday 13 October 2019

Cosmology of Law and Chaos in The Dungeon


One of the many things that OD&D and the 1981 Basic Set (as well as its subsequent iterations) differed widely from the rest of D&D was in terms of alignment: Whereas AD&D and all later editions used the two-axis alignment (Law-Chaos, Good-Evil), apart from 4e which had a weird set of alignments, much like Holmes did in his 1977 Basic Set, Moldvay strove for OD&D's much simpler take and preserved the one-axis alignment. In D&D B/X therefore, characters must choose between three alignments: Law, Neutrality, and Chaos, with specific characteristics for each aspect. Thus, Lawful characters are law-abiding and altruistic, Neutral are self-sufficient and survivalists, and Chaotic are selfish and unpredictable. One of my biggest gripes concerning these early systems is the assumption that Chaos usually equals Evil. In Keep of the Borderlands, Gygax states (pg. 6):
Always the forces of Chaos press upon [the Realm of mankind's] borders, seeking to enslave its populace, rape its riches, and steal its treasures. If it were not for a stout few, many in the Realm would indeed fall prey to the evil which surrounds them.
 That statement holds somewhat true in B/X. As Moldvay notes in Basic Rules (B11):
Lawful behavior is usually the same as behavior that could be called "good" [...] Chaotic behavior is usually the same as behavior that could be called "evil"
Perhaps this Law/Good and Chaos/Evil axis stemmed from Gygax's vision of clash between civilisation, which inherently registers as good, and wilderness, or rather the evil, destructive part of it. Anderson may have had a role in this, as Chaos according to him would be represented by the natural forces. Moorcock, for certain though, wasn't referring to Law and Chaos as such, but extended this battle on a cosmic scale. Whatever the case, I argue that Law doesn't necessarily imply Good (tyrants have a lot to say), and Chaos can be beneficial to the world (Robin Hood's acts against the oppressive Sheriff of Nottingham). Furthermore, what I find restrictive is the consensus that alignment sets a character's ethical behaviour, a sort of personality traits that correspond to each alignment choice.

As the Great Khan expertly notes in his post from 2012, law and chaos don't have to be about considerate lawful citizens or rebellious chaotic individuals:
[...] Law and Chaos aren't really moral/ethical/behavioral outlooks on life, but rather an allegiance to the concept of being pro or anti civilization [...]
In other words, alignment has nothing to do with your character's morals and ethics; rather, it serves as a reminder of which side you choose to fight for. This gives limitless possibilities to one, considering the abstract notions of Law and Chaos. I find single-axis alignment much more fascinating and engaging, since you don't deal with perceptions of good and evil, rather what constitutes Law (civilisation, order, technology, light etc.) and Chaos (wilderness, individuality, nature, darkness etc.).

In order to separate the alignment-personality relationship, as well as dismiss the dichotomy of Law/good and Chaos/evil, and further integrate alignment into the world, I've come up with an idea for the cosmology of The Dungeon, mainly inspired by the works of Moorcock, Warhammer Fantasy, and the Thief series, with extensive research in OSR blogs. Moorcock provided the cosmic struggle between Law and Chaos; Warhammer laid the groundwork for visualising Law as the Civilisation (Empire) of Man facing the destructive forces of Chaos, without either being shown as good or evil; and the three Thief games showed us the conflict of Law (Hammerites) and Chaos (Pagans) through various levels, all staged in a mostly neutral ground (the City). A couple of notes, too: we're talking about a human-centric world with a sword & sorcery theme (as it was befitting of D&D settings of that era); history is only known through, often biased, tradition, gods are mysterious and terrifying entities, and world perspective is narrowed down to usually what humans perceive.

Law and Chaos consist of two opposing cosmic forces, and the world of mortals is their battlefield. Each force bears its own aspects, which manifest as mysterious entities that mortals call gods. In the eternal battle between Law and Chaos, everybody takes a side, even though the notions of both forces have changed depending on which culture prevails. Picking alignment therefore is equivalent to the character choosing their allegiance to one of the two cosmic forces (or the lack of, see Neutrality).

In the current historical period, where humans dominate the known world, Law reflects (human) civilisation, order, the light against darkness and wilderness that wishes to devour and annihilate mankind. Humans, and proponents of Law, are in a constant struggle with the elements of nature. Lawful characters view stability as an important part of civilisation, fight to preserve status quo, and seldom stray from the sure and safe path.

On the contrary, Chaos denotes wild nature that clashes with civilisation in infinite ways (instead of the one true mean, which is the natural way of life for the Lawful). Proponents of Chaos point the oppressive and monotonous side of civilisation against free and wild life, and technology that destroys natural beauty. Chaotic characters seek to bring the old ways back, revere the Old Cthonic Gods, and are attracted by the unknown, however risky it may be.

Between those two battling factions stands whoever wishes to remain neutral, passive in the cosmic battle, or to just care for themselves. This collection of people corresponds to Neutrality, the abstinence of siding with a cosmic force rather than a side in itself. These people make up a part of human civilisation, who adhere to all social contracts but may express their tendency towards one or the other side. Ironically, the majority of humans belong to this Neutral faction, even though they know that either in this mortal world or the world of the dead, they have to choose which cosmic force they shall fight for.

And this sums up my take on alignments and the cosmology of The Dungeon. That way, I feel that I don't compromise player agency, concerning personality and behaviour. The players are free to choose to fight for mankind (whatever that may imply) or against it and their methods of obtaining their goals is theirs to pursue; for the cosmic forces of Law and Chaos, it's less your ethics and more the end that justifies the means. I should also mention Ander's excellent post about clerics and their religion, a set of ideas that helped me form my take on the cleric in The Dungeon.